


Trail of Destruction

by Fire_Sign



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 16:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10469643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign
Summary: What's a little destruction between lovers?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deedeeinfj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/gifts).



> So, this thing is like 100% due to a video from Cracked called something like How Movies Get Sex Wrong. The whole "property damage is sexy, except it's also impractical" thing amused me and this was hatched. For deedeeinfj, who clearly needed this to beat Monday into submission.

“You’re late for dinner, Jack,” came a scolding voice from the doorway. 

Jack looked up from the form in front of him, blinking. Phryne had clearly gone all out for their dinner plans, and hadn’t changed from the floor-length gown that has was already assessing for ease of removal. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, gesturing the teetering stack of files that had taken up his afternoon and evening.

He glanced at his watch, realising that not only was he late but _very_ late; no wonder she’d come looking for him.

“You could have telephoned,” he said, sheepish.

“I could have,” she agreed amiably, pushing off the doorframe and entering, then turning to lock the door behind her. “But as the station is officially closed this late at night, I thought…” 

She crossed the room, insinuating herself between his legs to take a seat on the centre of the desk. Jack laid his hands on her thighs, raising an eyebrow.

“You thought you’d come help me with paperwork?” he suggested. “A very kind offer, Miss Fisher, but I’m just finishing this last requisition report.”

Her laughter was bright, her head tossed back to expose the long curve of her neck. Her damnably irresistable neck.

“Not a chance, Jack darling, but--” and here she fingered his tie suggestively “--I thought I might provide some company. And perhaps a distraction?”

“You aren’t going to chat at me, are you?” he asked wryly. “I had quite enough idle gossip at your aunt’s last week, and as we’re not working a case together at the moment…”

Phryne huffed playfully, sliding off the desk so she was standing between his parted legs. “Idle gossip and work, is that all I’m good for, Jack Robinson?”

Whatever clever retort was half-formed on his tongue was forgotten when she slipped onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and teasing his lips with her own. His hands fisted in the silk at her hips. She followed his jawline from lips to ear, tugging on the lobe before whispering in his ear.

“I didn’t wear anything underneath this dress,” she confessed darkly. “And I’ve been thinking about your hands and your mouth and that clever thing you do with your cock for _hours_.”

He growled, managing to lift her and stand in one motion, pushing her onto the desk and rucking up the skirt of her gown.

“Christ, Phryne,” he muttered, pausing to take in the sight of her on his desk, skirt to her waist and a look of surprised pleasure on her face. He could smell her--perfume and arousal mingling, making him desperate in an instant.

Grabbing her head, he kissed her fiercely. She groaned into his mouth, hand reaching along the desk to gain some purchase against the assault… and straight into the teetering pile of folders.

Jack wasn’t aware paper hitting the floor could be that loud.

“Christ, Phryne,” Jack repeated, pulling away. Dozens of files were spread in a pool beside his desk.

“I think I liked that better the first time,” she said, then shrugged and hooked her hands into his waistcoat to pull him close. “We can pick it up when we’re done.”

Which was a suggestion that could only come from a woman with a household staff to clean up the trail of destruction in her wake. But as it was late, they were alone, and she’d quickly removed his tie and was now kissing his neck… well, Jack could be irresponsible just this once. 

“You’re a terrible influence, Miss Fisher,” he muttered, hand snaking around her back to find the buttons--a quick flick of his fingers and it fell open, and Jack quickly slid the dress down her arm to reveal her breasts.

“The very worst,” she hummed in agreement. “But it feels divine.”

She’d managed to get his jacket and waistcoat off of him without his notice--he’d wonder how, but it was Phryne and she was both incredibly clever and incredibly distracting--and had tangled her hands in his braces to pull him to her mouth for another kiss. His hand moved to her breast, cupping it in his palm with just enough force to make her gasp a laugh. Then it slipped down, across her taut stomach, over the bunched silk of her evening gown, and between her legs. His fingertips circled her clit, then slowly pressed inside her. He found the spot that always made her moan and shudder and thrash, and he brushed teasing strokes against it.

He had not thought that plan through--her arm flailed out and there was a loud clatter, and Jack looked up.

“Damn it,” he muttered, looking at the broken object. “That was my telephone, Miss Fisher. Do you know how long it will take to get a replacement? The forms need to be completed in _triplicate_.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” she said blithely.

“When I swore we’d never have sex at the station, I did not think it would be because you’d destroy my office,” Jack grumbled, pressing a final kiss to her lips before breaking away to clean up the mess. The telephone first, and somehow the fall had mangled the receiver in such a way that there was no fixing it. Then the files, an incredibly long and frustrating process of trying to keep reports together and in some semblance of order. Rather than assist him, Phryne remained perched on the desk, still essentially naked and rather enjoying it. On his knees, Jack looked up with a raised eyebrow as he finished collecting the last of the files.

Phryne grinned at him, a little wickedly, and spread her legs further.

“While you’re down there, darling…”

Jack glanced at the desk behind her for any objects she could inflict further damage upon, and realised she’d swept everything into a drawer for the interim. He knee-walked over to her, laying kisses against the soft skin of her inner thigh. 

“Do _try_ to rein in your destructive tendencies,” he smirked, his fingertips gliding up the back of her calf. “I’d rather the building not fall down around my ears.”

And he set to work.


End file.
